Page 47 of Daddy Down Under

Something inside me kept pushing, daring Ocean to react. “ I don’t need you telling me what to do. I’m a grown man, for fuck’s sake!”

Ocean’s eyes flashed dangerously, like storm clouds gathering over a placid sea. In one fluid motion, he grabbed my biceps. “Enough!”

“Or what?”

Without saying a word, he yanked me forward, and I almost tripped as he all but dragged me toward a chair, where he sat down, pulling me between his legs. Before I realized what was happening, he’d dragged down my pants and underwear.

“What are you?—”

The words died in my throat as he manhandled me, bending me over his knee in one decisive movement.

The world tilted on its axis, and all of a sudden, I was staring at the plush carpet, my ass raised high. A rush of heat flooded my face as the reality of my position sank in.

“You’ve been asking for this all night,” Ocean said calmly, his large hand resting on the small of my back. “It’s time you learned some respect.”

Panic clawed at my chest. This couldn’t be happening. I was a powerful man, not some submissive boy needing a spanking. Yet a part of me thrilled at Ocean taking control, at finally facing the consequences for my brattiness.

The first smack landed with a resounding crack, the sting radiating through my body. I gasped, more from shock than pain. Ocean’s hand came down again and again, setting a steady rhythm that had me squirming and panting.

“Ocean, stop!” I cried out, mortified by the whine in my voice. “This is ridiculous!”

He halted for a moment. “If you truly want me to stop, say ‘red.’ Unless you tell me that, I’ll keep going.”

A safeword.

He was giving me a safeword.

Jesus fuck, what did I do now? He resumed the spanking and didn’t slow down either. If anything, the swats grew harder, and I slipped into a strange headspace. Humiliation warred with arousal, leaving me dizzy and confused.

Why wasn’t I saying red? All I had to do was utter that one word, and he’d stop. I knew he would. So why didn’t I?

What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I fighting harder? And why, god help me, was my cock hardening against Ocean’s thigh?

I closed my eyes as Ocean’s palm connected with my flesh again, the sharp sting radiating through my body. Each impact sent shockwaves of sensation coursing through me, like lightning striking a vast, turbulent sea. My mind raced, struggling to process the conflicting emotions swirling within me.

I clenched my jaw, determined not to make a sound as Ocean’s hand continued its relentless assault. But with each stinging slap, my resolve weakened. The pain blurred into a burning warmth that spread through my body like wildfire.

“You need this, don’t you?” Ocean’s voice was low, almost tender, despite the force behind his hand.

I bit my lip, fighting against the urge to respond. To admit. To surrender.

Another smack, harder this time. I gasped, my body jerking involuntarily. “Answer me, Cash.”

“I… I don’t…” The words caught in my throat, choking me. How could I need this? I was Cashell Sullivan, a self-made billionaire. I didn’t need anyone. I didn’t submit to anyone.

And yet…

With each strike, layers of resistance peeled away. Ocean would say it was like being caught in a riptide, fighting against a current far stronger than myself. The more I struggled, the more exhausted I became.

“Let go, Cash. You’re fighting yourself more than me.”

His words pierced through my defenses, striking at something deep within me. I felt like a dam about to burst, years of pent-up tension and control threatening to overwhelm me.

“I can’t,” I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how.”

“You can.” Ocean paused to rub soothing circles on my burning flesh. “Trust me.”

The gentleness in his touch was my undoing. Something inside me began to crack, a wall holding back years of pent-up emotion. Another fissure appeared with each impact until finally…

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